


Stress

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Crack, Gen, Hogwarts Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was extremely confused. He was also extremely surprised at what a cute kid Malfoy had been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress

Harry rubbed his eyes, blinked, then rubbed his eyes again. There was something very, very wrong with Malfoy's group of Slytherins. Oh, they looked as smug as they usually did, lurking in the dungeons as the Gryffindors and Slytherins waited for their OWL level potions class to begin. Snape was running late (probably to make them squirm and delay their studying, because he had no soul and delighted in their pain). His Slytherins, who were also too fond of ruining Harry's life, were the closest to the doorway.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle stood guard from invisible enemies around the group, glaring at no one in particular. Blaise was buried in a book and ignoring the world. Pansy was talking about something Harry couldn't hear, her expression as sour as usual. And at the center of the group was a blond young man with Draco Malfoy's pointy features, except he looked like he was six years old at most. Harry was exceedingly confused. He was also exceedingly surprised at what a cute kid Malfoy had been.  
  
"That's a mudblood?" Malfoy loudly exclaimed, looking over at Hermione in shock.  
  
Harry sighed. It seemed that even this weirdly young version of Malfoy was wildly racist. Except, Malfoy remained cute even as he said a curse word that had caused Hermione multiple tearful days when they were younger. "I won't have you casting aspirations on my friends, even if you are a tiny version of Malfoy," Harry said, crossing his arms and expecting Malfoy to ask whether he'd swallowed a dictionary by accident, like he usually did when Harry said a word longer than three syllables.  
  
Instead, Malfoy glared and said, "I cast spells, not aspirations!"  
  
Harry didn't even make an attempted not to coo. "Oh god. Malfoy why are you so bloody adorable?" It was the big blue eyes, the floppy blond hair, the way his robes were just a little too big for him.  
  
"I'm not adorable," Malfoy said. It was useless.  
  
"What's up with him, anyway?" Harry asked Pansy, who looked like she was about to step in and protect Malfoy's virtue from the big bad amused Gryffindors.  
  
"It's none of your business," she told him. She took Malfoy's hand.  
  
Harry was surprised when he let her, not squirming away like he usually did when Pansy got amorous.  
  
"It's the parva aetate, isn't it?" Hermione asked, staring at Malfoy in curiosity.  
  
"Par-what?" Ron asked.  
  
"It's a way extreme stress sometimes manifests in old pureblood lines. Some sort of virus, or old curse, that causes them to appear younger, to an age when they weren't as troubled. That way, they won't wreck themselves with stress. They return to their usual selves in a couple days."  
  
"You're correct, for once," Pansy said. "Come on, Draco. Let's leave these plebes."  
  
"Kay," Malfoy said.  
  
Harry let out another coo, ignoring the strange looks he got from his friends. He wasn't going to last these couple of days, he really wasn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Complete; no sequel planned.


End file.
